Just a bit o' fluff
by JillyBean09
Summary: Not really R, just some Harry torture in the form of Hermione. Cute little one-shot. Enjoy.


Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter etc, in any way shape or form.

Welcome all! This is my first one-shot. It's Harry/Hermione.  
I don't like doing canon couples as a rule for this pairing, but  
I just wanted a little bit of quick fluff. It might not make sense,  
it might not be original, it might be OOC, but it is dedicated to  
all of the cute romantics out there. I heart you all.   
Love -  
Hobbit.

Harry, Ron, honestly! You cannot expect to pass your  
  
N.E.W.T.S. when you keep pestering me for the answers!" Hermione  
  
scolded them, for what Harry felt was about the sixth hundreth time.  
  
He scowled. "Oi, don't look at me, 'Mione, it's this lunk who needs  
  
your help, not me." Ron glared back at him, ears suspiciously pink.  
  
"Bloody hell, Harry!" he yelled.

Madame Pince's eyes narrowed as her head swung   
  
towards the noise. Ron felt a familiar burning sensation at the  
  
back of his neck, the one that meant he was being glared at.   
  
He shrunk in his seat. Harry felt the back of his neck heat up  
  
for a different reason. Embarrassment. He too slunk down.   
  
Hermione merely rolled her eyes as she gave in and began to  
  
help Ron with his work."Good lord, it's like pulling teeth.   
  
All you have to do is...blah blah blah...." was all Harry heard   
  
as he tuned out the conversation, staring into space blearily.

His glazed over eyes eventually swung back to  
  
Hermione and Ron, having perused the less interesting aspects  
  
of the dull library. Ron's flaming red hair, which matched his face  
  
perfectly, still obviously stinging from Hermione's little _"lectures"_   
  
as she was apt to call them. The tight grip he had on his pencil,   
  
the way Hermione had her eyes narrowed in concentration, the  
  
way she had two small ink smudges on her person, one on her  
  
left hand, resting on the table, and on her sweet little rounded   
  
chin. Wait. That came out wrong. He shrugged. Just being   
  
friendly.   
  
_Continuing_. The way her hair was given to curl,   
  
settling near Ron's face as his nose continually twitched from  
  
the contact, her eyes shining brightly as she did what she loved  
  
best. Her cute little nose as it wrinkled up in irritation at the latest  
  
lack-wit thing their best friend had said. And her little pink mouth  
  
as she formed the words slowly for their friend. _Mm, pretty_, his  
  
mind supplied him. His thoughts came to a screeching halt as he  
  
ran over what he had just thought. _No, no, and no for the last   
  
time_, he yelled at his mind. _I am not attracted to Hermione_.

So focused was he that he did not hear his name   
  
being called for several minutes. "-rry...Harry..." someone   
  
called in a irritated voice. He shook his head mentally, washing  
  
his mind of such thoughts towards one of his best friends, only  
  
to be confronted with the lips he had been trying to convince his  
  
subconscience that he wanted nothing to do with those lips. Ok,  
  
so he had lied. His eyes widened behind his glasses, taking in the  
  
few centimeters between them. _All I have to do is reach out_,   
  
whispered a little voice, which he then sheepishly determined was,  
  
in fact, his id.

"Harry? Are you feeling quite all right?" Hermione  
  
asked with a frown, peering in closely at him. Harry narrowed   
  
his eyes. Ok, the id had won this battle. He pretended to lift his   
  
head a tiny bit, and his breath caught as he felt his lips glide across  
  
her silky ones. He heard her gasp, and both pulled away quickly,  
  
as if burned. They both whipped their heads around, expecting to  
  
hear Ron's bellow of disbelief or shock. All they saw was Ron's  
  
bright head as it lay, it's owner drooling all over, of all the irony,  
  
_'Hogwarts, A History.'_   
  
Hermione rolled her eyes and turned back to offer  
  
a small grin at Harry, welcoming the normalacy of the moment.  
  
He grinned weakly back and got up and slapped Ron's shoulder.  
  
"Up you get, you bloody ninny." Ron woke up, stretching.  
  
Hermione sighed, closing the book and grabbing their books.   
  
Ron made a generally unpleasant sound associated with waking up,  
  
yet not being fully awake. "Merlin's beard, I'm knackered." He  
  
took his books and got up. "I'll see you two tomorrow, all right?"

Harry and Hermione looked at each other, blushed,   
  
and then turned to nod to their oblivious friend, who then staggered  
  
through the mass of late-night study-ers who were also starting to  
  
drift off. Both gathered their books and meandered back to the   
  
Gryffindor Commons Room. They came to the Fat Lady. "Password?"  
  
she asked, yawning. "**Carpe diem**" Harry said firmly. He pushed the  
  
painting open, gesturing for Hermione to go first. The painting   
  
winked at him as he had pushed it past him, making him blush.  
  
He glared at it, and walked through haughtily. Stupid painting,  
  
he thought. What does _**she**_ know?

Hermione yawned, and his attention turned to her.  
  
She stretched slowly, seemingly unaware of Harry's eyes   
  
following her movements, averting his eyes as she completed  
  
the stretch. "Well, off we get." She mumbled out sleepily.  
  
He grinned. Same old Hermione, thankfully. They climbed  
  
the stairs to the Gryffindor Head Boy and Girl rooms.   
  
They said their goodnights and went to bed.

Harry cursed as he stumbled around his room,   
  
trying to get his trousers off. "Way to scare off your best friend,  
  
Harry." he muttered to himself. "Bloody hell, I must be the biggest  
  
moron on the planet!" He sat down on his bed to take off his shirt,  
  
removing his glasses. He sat in his pyjama pants and ran a hand   
  
through his already messy black hair, closing his green eyes.

He knew the feeling that had taken place downstairs.  
  
**Attraction**. **Lust**. **Want**. Those feelings were not a problem, except   
  
that this time, _they were with one of his best friends_. He stood up   
  
resolutely, walking over to the connecting door. He banged his shin  
  
on the wall. "**Bugger**!" he growled painfully. "Of course I forget my  
  
feckin' glasses!" He fumbled around, finally feeling the table where he  
  
had set them. He shook his head, walking more cautiously to the door  
  
as he cleaned his glasses off with his pants.

He knocked timidly. No answer. He knocked again, this  
  
time a little louder. Still no answer. Last time, he told himself. He raised  
  
his hand to knock, but before he could bring it down, Hermione's head   
  
peeped out from behind the door. "Harry?" she asked, frowning bemusedly.  
  
He rubbed his hand through his hair sheepishly. "M-may I talk to you for  
  
a moment?" Hermione opened the door, smiling. "Of course! Whatever  
  
is the matter?"

He sighed. "I-i wanted to-to apologize for the incident in   
  
the library. It wasn't intentional." Hermione stiffened slightly, which  
  
did not escape Harry's notice. "It-it was nothing. I realize that it was  
  
an accident." Now it was Harry's turn to stiffen. Then he relaxed.  
  
This is what he had wanted, right? "W-well, I'm glad that that is   
  
taken care of." Hermione stated, smiling warmly. Harry smiled  
  
back, feeling slightly apprehensive, and not in the least bit relieved.

However, he nodded, grinning. "Still friends then?" he   
  
asked lightly, holding out his arms. She nodded enthusiastically.   
  
"Of course!" She flew into his embrace for a perfunctory hug,   
  
and they said good night once more. _Well, that went slightly askew_,  
  
he thought to himself. He then caught himself. _What am I saying?  
  
I am in **no way** attracted to Hermione_. He groaned as he flopped  
  
down on the bed. _Oh, who am I trying to fool? You daft moron, Harry_.  
  
And with those thoughts, he slipped under the covers to dream about  
  
a certain witch who was just a few feet away.

_ The next morning _

Harry groaned as he heard the pounding on his door.  
  
"Harry! What the bloody hell are you doing? You're going to   
  
miss breakfast!" Ron shouted through the keyhole. Harry let out  
  
a jaw-cracking yawn and rubbed his bloodshot eyes, fumbling to put  
  
his glasses on. "Hell's bells." he muttered to himself as he walked to the  
  
bathroom. "Keep your bloody trousers on!" he shouted hoarsely at Ron.  
  
"I'll be down in a few." Thankfully, he heard the receding footsteps of   
  
a certain redhead.

He brushed his teeth, tried to tame his hair into some semblance  
  
of order, gave up, threw on a new shirt and his robes, mussing his hair even  
  
more, and strode out of the room. He skulked past the Commons Room, and,  
  
those few stragglers who were in there were amazed as they watched a  
  
thoroughly irritated and grouchy Harry sweep by, robes swishing behind him,   
  
doing a marvelous impression of one of his hated nemesis', Professor Snape.

He stopped at the entance of the Great Hall, as he caught sight  
  
of the object of his vexation. He gaped as he watched her smile and laugh  
  
with Lavender Brown, Ron's longtime girlfriend, flinging her hair behind her  
  
in a purely feminine gesture that made the sun streaming in catch and reflect  
  
the golden highlights in her hair. She turned and caught sight of him, beaming  
  
a smile his way. He tugged at his collar as swallowing soon became somewhat  
  
of a difficulty.

He continued to stare at her as he walked, actually, more like   
  
staggered toward her. So intent was he on his quarry that he ran into quite  
  
a few people. He mumbled apologies and still continued. He finally reached  
  
the Gryffindor table and sat down beside Hermione with a thump. She looked  
  
at him in concern. "Are you feeling quite yourself, Harry?" He mumbled   
  
something about not getting enough sleep, and she turned to chat with Paravati,  
  
somewhat satisfied with his weak, even to his own ears, explanation.

He shook himself out of his daze and turned slightly to hear their  
  
conversation. "...and so I heard that the Bauble Stealer has been-"  
  
"Excuse me, the what?" Harry asked curiously. Paravati stared at him,   
  
annoyed at him for interrupting. She rolled her eyes. "I guess since you've  
  
been cooped up in your Head Boy room, you haven't heard, but there  
  
has been a thief in Hogsmeade. He or she only steals certain   
  
objects." Harry grinned. "Ah. I'm slightly sorry I asked." Paravati  
  
merely "_hmmph_"ed and turned to flirt with Seamus.

The day went normal enough, sleeping through Professor  
  
Binns' class, glaring at the back of Snape's head as he wrote ingredients  
  
down on the blackboard, gazing at Hermio-okay, so maybe a few things  
  
were slightly off balance, but somehow Harry made it through the day.  
  
He trudged towards the Gryffindor Common Room, griping about his day.  
  
He stopped short as he saw the one person whom he had been dreading   
  
seeing alone. And alone she was. Fast asleep.

He knelt down beside the table she had fallen asleep at,  
  
gazing at her sweet face. He brushed back a few strands of her rebellious  
  
hair, revelling in the silky texture. He was so engrossed in what he was doing  
  
he did not see her eyes flutter open in time to draw back. "Harry?" Came her  
  
sleep-laden voice. He forced a smile. "'Lo, 'Mione. Fall asleep over your   
  
Arithmacy book again?" He grinned sincerely this time. Hermione grinned  
  
back ruefully. "You know me all too well." She admitted.

She sat up and groaned, rubbing her neck. Harry stilled her  
  
hands and put his in their place. "Here, I'll give you a massage and then  
  
we'll go up to the room." She nodded greatfully. Harry took advantage of  
  
the fact that she was still half-asleep, knowing that she would most likely  
  
be to embarrassed to let him do this if she were fully awake.

He kneaded the muscles at her neck, loosening the knots there.  
  
She moaned as he pushed down with his thumbs at the base of her neck.  
  
He flushed as the sound went through him like a mug of warm Butterbeer.  
  
He moved down her back in firm circles, relieving the tension there.  
  
Finally, after about fifteen minutes, he dropped his hands and shook her   
  
shoulder. "Five more minutes." She murmured. He chuckled softly and  
  
made her stand up. She slumped against him and he blushed. Yet again.

He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and another   
  
under her knees, lifting her up. He staggered a bit at first, a tad off  
  
balance, but then walked toward the stairs leading to their rooms  
  
easily. Being a seeker for seven years would do that to one. He finally  
  
reached her room, huffing only slightly. She turned her face in toward   
  
his chest a bit more and he smiled down at her.

It took him a few tries to actually open the door, but oh   
  
well. Finally, stumbling through the door, he shut it with his foot and  
  
deposited her gently on her bed. He took off her shoes, kissed her   
  
lightly on the forehead, and turned to leave. "Harry?" Asked a quiet  
  
voice. He turned back. "Yeah, I was just leaving." She frowned tiredly.  
  
"You don't have to go yet. Stay here and keep me company if you please."

Poor Harry, not having the heart nor the will to say no, sat  
  
down stiffly on the edge of the bed. _Oh yes_, supplied his superego.  
  
_You, my troubled friend, are definitely finished_. _Shite_, agreed his id.  
  
Hermione wrapped her arms about his waist as if he was a great teddy  
  
bear.

_Case: Harry Potter, Boy Who Lived, I.D. number 12841.  
Diagnosis: Heart failure.  
Cure: Electroshocks. Or kissing Hermione Granger senseless.   
Whichever came first._

_Mmm, witch_. _**No! Down!**_ His superego began to yell at him.   
  
_Unwrap her arms_! His id kicked the superego in it's superior little arse. _Go   
  
for it!_ His id demanded of him. _You know you want to!_ Harry's eye   
  
twitched. _**Damn you, Freud!**_ He yelled mentally. Hermione snuggled  
  
closer, her breast innocently touching his thigh.

Oh, yes, he was definitely beginning to develope a slight  
  
tic in his right eye. _What to do, what do to. Calm down, you bloody  
  
wassock,_ he told himself. _Okay, umm, Dumbledore and McGonagall  
  
in his office, oh, damn, not working! Umm, Ron belching up the slugs.  
  
Still nothing_. He squinched his eyes shut tightly. _Ah!_ He thought brightly.  
  
_Snape and Malfoy!_ He gagged for a second, but to his relief, it worked.

That is, until Hermione opened an eye. "Harry." She stated,  
  
as calmly as if giving the answer to a question asked by a professor. "I  
  
cannot fall asleep if you are simply just sitting there. It is giving my arms  
  
a cramp." She pulled him to her further. Harry felt himself go up in flames.  
  
He felt like weeping. Seriously.

She continued to pull at him. "Just lay the hell down." She  
  
said, frustrated. She looked up at him. He looked down at her. **Argh!**  
  
His body relaxed. "Oh fine." He mumbled. He leaned over and pulled  
  
off his shoes, then tried to find a comfortable spot on the very edge of  
  
the bed. Hermione hauled him closer.

He was going to be shedding tears now any second.   
  
Was this heaven or hell? He glared up at the ceiling, hoping that it   
  
could impart some type of wisdom. No such luck. Hermione layed  
  
her head down on his chest. Ah, there went that little tic again.

She mumbled in her sleep and plastered herself to him.  
  
He stiffened, glancing down in disbelief. Could it get any worse?!  
  
Her hand started stroking his chest. _Oh_. Yes. It did. Her legs  
  
moved and entwined with his, her foot rubbing his. Why?  
  
Why, dear Christ, why?!

Her left knee moved up and gently brushed his  
  
inner thigh. He jerked back with a curse. He rolled off the  
  
edge of the bed, scrambling to get up, and to just get the hell  
  
out of this torture chamber. Hermione sighed in her sleep.

He gave up and sat on the floor, trying to control   
  
his breathing, sweat running down his face. If there was one thing  
  
people could admire about Harry Potter, it was his self control.  
  
His eyes widened as he saw the bedsheets stir, and a pleasantly  
  
rumpled Hermione looked down at him irritably. He glanced up  
  
at her with wide, petrified eyes.

"You bloody moron." She stated calmly. "What does  
  
it take?" He continued looking at her in something akin to terror.  
  
She sighed loudly. "I'm trying to seduce you, you silly boy!" she   
  
shouted in a whisper. His eyes widened. _What?_ His brain short-  
  
circuited around the word 'seduce'.

She got out of her bed, her clothes wrinkled, and   
  
kneeled next to him. "You idiot." She threw her arms around him,  
  
pressing tightly against him. Slowly, his arms came around her back.  
  
_I have died, and I still haven't figured out whether this is heaven or hell,  
_  
Harry decided. Then her hand slipped down to his chest, covering his  
  
left nipple and he stopped thinking. Well, actually, he also stopped   
  
breathing. "Don't you get it, you fathead. I _l_-"

He gave in. His head dipped down to hers for a passionate  
  
kiss. She returned his affections eagerly, wrapping her arms around his  
  
neck and grasping handfuls of his jet-black hair. He pulled back. "M-  
  
me too." He panted out. Both dove in for a second kiss. He released  
  
her after a few minutes and both stood up, keeping as much contact  
  
as they could.

He grinned down at her darkly, and she felt a delicious  
  
shiver run up her spine. "I think that we should continue this in my  
  
room, as your friends have ways of barging in in the mornings."   
  
He said, still grinning impishly. She laughed in delight. "I second  
  
that." He growled and she, Hermione Granger, for the first time  
  
in her life, squealed. She ran into his room, followed closely by   
  
Harry.

_ The next morning _

Harry awoke to a banging noise. He opened one  
  
eye for a second, then shut it quickly as the bright rays of the   
  
sun stung his eye. He squeezed both eyes shut. _Perhaps if I   
  
ignore it, it'll go away,_ he thought brightly, as he shifted to grasp  
  
the warm body next to him more firmly.

The banging persisted. "Harry!" A voice, so familiar

and once associated with nice things such as Quidditch and  
  
Exploding Snaps, now associated with evil things such as morning  
  
wake up calls, penetrated through the door, straight to Harry's ear   
  
drum.

Hermione shifted, and he tightened his hold.

"_Gggghh..._Not now, Ron!"   
  
"B-but you'll miss breakfast!"

The annoying voice was still there. "Oi, and have you   
  
seen Hermione 'round? I haven't caught sight of her this morning."  
  
Ron wouldv'e flushed and melted of shock on the spot if he was to  
  
have seen the wicked grin Harry wore at the moment. Harry glanced  
  
down, seeing the body in question in his sheets, with her cleavage   
  
sticking out quite nicely. _Hmm_, thought his id. _Time for a tiny wake  
  
up call._ He paused, waiting for his superego. _Go for it_, it said.

He grinned again and started slithering down the  
  
sheets. Another loud bang stopped him cold for the moment. "Yeah,  
  
I've seen 'Mione." Ron sighed in exasperation. **Really**! Of all the times  
  
for Harry to be so annoyingly avoidant! Breakfast was waiting! _Oh_. Yeah.  
  
So was Lavender. Same thing.

"Well, do you know where she is?" Ron persisted valiantly.  
  
It was now Harry's turn to sigh in exasperation. "Naff off, Ron!" he   
  
bellowed. Ron's eyes widened, as a thought entered his brain. Just as  
  
quickly, it flew out of his head, and started heading for the outside world  
  
past the window, flapping it's tiny wings heroically. It then slammed into  
  
said window, and died tragically.

"B-but what about breakfast?" Ron whined piteously.   
  
Harry growled. "I said, bugger off! I don't give a flying fuck about  
  
the damn breakfast!" Ron's eyes bugged out of his head. "N-not care  
  
about breakfast?" Harry sighed, at the end of his patience. He glanced   
  
down. Such lovely skin, going to waste. Then, he grinned maniacally as  
  
he thought of something. "Oh, go on down, I've already got my breakfast  
  
right here."

Ron's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "How in the-"  
  
"I said, bugger off Ron!" Ron shook his head in annoyance.   
  
"Fine, fine. See if I give you any more wake up calls from now on.  
  
Not want breakfast, honestly...Why I...." His voice trailed off as he  
  
sulked down the hall. Harry glanced at the door from whence Ron  
  
had disappeared and narrowed his eyes affectionately. "Obviously   
  
not batting on a full wicket." He thought outloud.

He felt the sensation of something warm against the  
  
skin of his chest. He looked down to see Hermione looking up.  
  
He smiled wolfishly. "Well, hello my dear." Hermione raised an  
  
eyebrow. He deflated. "I've just always wanted to say that."  
  
She wrinked her nose grinning. He felt anticipation flow through  
  
his veins. He growled down at her.

A lone first year walked down the hall and stopped   
  
in horror as he heard giggling followed by the roaring of a male  
  
voice. **"You know, it's not flattering when you call a man's pride  
  
'cute'!!!"** The poor dear quickened his footsteps, glancing back   
  
in fear, now scarred for life.  
  
__

_ The End _

_Gah! What am I doing?! I need to be doing a history project!  
Good night! Please review! Yay!_


End file.
